


carry me home tonight

by duckgirlie



Category: Crashing (UK TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, Canon Character of Color, Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Character of Color, Christmas, Gen, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21813199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckgirlie/pseuds/duckgirlie
Summary: Apparently, Sam has a sister. Which Fred only finds out when she's accidentally invited to the Christmas party.
Relationships: Fred Patini/Sam
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	carry me home tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitterpig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterpig/gifts).



> happy yuletide!!! ty to kate and clare for beta help <3

The Christmas Party is Lulu’s idea, obviously, and Kate objects, obviously.

Also obviously, when the actual planning started happening, Kate is the one who actually does everything, because Lulu’s idea of planning a party is still to text everyone she knows ‘ _we’re having a thing on Friday_ ’, and even if Kate wasn’t a professional event planner, that just isn’t going to do. 

Which is why, a few days beforehand, Sam and Fred find themselves dispatched with a list of important things Kate needs to decorate. (Technically, Fred is dispatched and Sam tags along, because Kate does not actually trust Sam to get everything done, but Sam equally doesn't want to leave Fred alone for an entire afternoon.)

They’re in Primark getting reindeer antlers and tinsel, and Sam is wrapping tinsel around Fred and pinching him every time he wriggles and tries to escape, when a voice behind them says “Sam?” and Sam freezes.

He pulls his hands away from Fred and takes a step to the side.

“Hi, Sarah.”

He doesn’t say anything else, so Fred tries to fill the silence.

“Hello,” said Fred.

“She’s my sister.”

“Oh.” Fred hadn’t known he had a sister.

“This is um, Fred.”

Fred’s arms are still tied to his sides with tinsel, but he makes his best attempt at a wave anyway. “Hi.”

“How are you, Sam?”

“I’m fine. Just you know, out and about. Shopping. Before Christmas. Like you do. Before Christmas.”

Sam’s hands are flying everywhere while he talks, and Fred desperately wants to grab one of them and force him to just _be still_ for a moment so he can calm down a little, but he knows that won’t go over well. Instead, he tries to project a calming energy at Sam, which obviously doesn’t work.

“It’s for a party. Where we - I - we, live.”

“That’s fun.”

“You should come.”

Right after he says it, Sam’s jaw audibly snaps shut, but it’s too late.

“Oh,” Sarah smiles, surprised. “That’s… That’d be lovely.”

“Yeah, no, you should. It’ll be good. I mean like, I’ll be really busy doing like… party stuff, but you should come.”

“Are you still at the… hospital?”

“An abandoned primary school, now. I’ll email you the address.”

She smiles again. “Thanks, Sam. I’ll be there. It was good to see you.”

“Yeah… yeah.” 

There’s an awkward moment where neither of them know whether to hug or shake hands, but in the end they just nod at each other, and Sarah leaves.

Sam turns back to Fred, his eyes bright and jaw clenched in a way that that Fred recognises spells immediate trouble. He starts ripping the tinsel off Fred with sharp, jerky movements and the second his hands are free, Fred grabs Sam’s to stop him.

It takes a few seconds, but Sam finally blinks.

“Okay, what’s next on the list? Let’s go.”

Fred pats him on the cheek. “You know we have to buy this tinsel now, right?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


The thing is, _the thing is_ \- 

Fred is maybe not the first boy Sam has ever wanted to kiss.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The primary school has fewer residents than the hospital did, which Fred liked because it meant less different people to have to interact with on a daily basis. Seven classrooms, three offices, a teacher’s lounge and an infirmary for bedrooms, a canteen and an assembly hall as communal spaces. Fred’s room used to be the head teacher’s office, even if he tends to spend more time in the reception classroom, which Kate had assigned Sam, because she thought she was hilarious.

Kate has gone all-out on decorations, which is to be expected, because Kate has no chill.

The entire assembly hall has been set up to look like an actual primary school Christmas party, with tinsel and wrapped fake presents under a ropey-looking Christmas tree, and a gigantic MERRY CHRISTMAS banner that she’d press-ganged Melody and Lulu into finger-painting.

Anthony had made mince pies and mulled wine and Fred is helping him get everything set up in the hall while Kate directs Colin attaching tinsel to the ceiling and Sam floats about doing nothing but get in everyone’s way. He’s even more frazzled then he usually is, and Fred keeps nearly dropping things when he looks over to check to make sure he hasn’t done something stupid.

Eventually, Anthony takes a tray of tiny sandwiches out of his hands and shoves him away.

“Go sort him out, or you’ll make a mess before he does.”

Fred smiles reluctantly, grabs Sam, and drags him out into the corridor.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. I’m fine. Nothing at all.”

“Last time ‘nothing was up’ we ended up at your dad’s memorial, so I don’t _quite_ trust you.”

“Okay well, my dad can hardly die twice, so you don’t have to worry about a repeat, so -”

He tries to twist out of Fred’s grip and head back into the hall, but Fred doesn’t let him.

“So this has nothing to do with your dad?”

“Nope.” Sam pops the ‘p’ loudly.

“And nothing to do with your sister?”

“No, nothing at all. She’s probably not even going to come, anyway, she was just saying that to be nice, she’d hardly be bothered, so.”

Fred frowns a little. “I thought she looked excited to be asked.”

“She was probably just excited to have some new gossip for our mum, last they heard I’d just moved into the hospital and left my old job, can’t keep judging me accurately with out of date information, you know.”

“Sam.”

“I’m _fine_.” Sam twists his arm out of Fred’s grasp and stomps back to the other end of the school, not even looking over his shoulder.

Fred sighs, and goes back in to help Anthony some more.

  
  


* * *

  
  


There was a kid in Sam’s year nine maths class that Sam had desperately wanted to be friends with. Robbie King was tall and shy and kind of a nerd, and sometimes let Sam copy his homework if Sam looked really upset about not finishing it. Sam would rush to class whenever he could so he could sit next to him and then not say anything for the entire lesson. Sometimes he’d bite the rubber off the end of his pencil and flick it at him, but Robbie would barely react, just flinching a little when the rubber hit him.

Usually, right after letting Sam copy his answers, Robbie offered to help Sam with his homework instead, Sam would scoff and Robbie would usually let it drop. 

In year 10, Robbie was in a different class, and Sam paid a little more attention but still did a little worse.

  
  


* * *

  
  


There are only 21 full-time residents in the school, but between them they must know half of London, because not long after nine the party is packed. Kate has handed out reindeer antlers or Santa hats to half the guests, and most of them are in some kind of festive outfit, so the whole atmosphere really does remind Fred of the annual fundraising parties his own school had hosted when he was a kid. The only thing that’s missing is Santa himself.

Well, Santa and Sam.

Sam is usually the first person at a party, so Fred was worried, but that worry is fighting with a simmering irritation that Sam always, _always_ throws a fit and expects Fred to just give in and follow him, which means that instead of letting himself chase after him, Fred is on his fourth cup of mulled wine and talking to Melody about how her latest painting of Colin was going.

Melody’s latest painting of Colin was a life-sized nude, and Fred is really regretting getting into this conversation when the door opens and Sarah walks in, wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and carrying a tiny gift bag.

She looks first at the drinks station and second at the dancefloor, but Sam still isn’t there. Fred swallows down the rest of his mulled wine and goes over to her.

“Hi.”

The music is almost too loud to be heard.

“Hi. Fred, wasn’t it?”

“Yep, Fred. That’s me.”

She smiles stiffly and the music fades from Don’t Let The Bells End into Last Christmas, which is at least a little easier to talk through.

“Is Sam here?”

“He’s sulking somewhere, he hasn’t shown up yet.”

Her face falls. “Oh. I knew he didn’t actually want to ask me. I should -”

“No, stay.” Fred grabs her. “He’s being a brat. I assume you’re familiar.”

“Just a little, yeah,” she smiles.

“C’mon, I’ll get you a drink. If he doesn’t show up in a bit, I’ll take you to his room.”

She drinks two cups of mulled wine and is clutching the third before she finally hits on the question Fred’s been dreading since they saw her in Primark.

“Fred, can I ask you - if you don’t mind - but are you and Sam… Are you his -”

Fred puts his cup down immediately. “Let's find you Sam.”

He leads her through the hallway, passing by at least three couples making out against various walls, and finally, they’re outside Sam’s room. He hasn’t pulled the shade on the window, and he’s clearly visible through the cartoon squirrel decal, sitting on his bed fully dressed and pouting at his phone.

Fred taps on the window and Sam looks up, his face splitting into a wide smile for just a second before he sees Sarah and it falls back into neutral.

He opens the door and gently pushes her inside. 

“Don’t let him miss all the mulled wine, yeah?”

She mouths a tiny ‘thanks’ at him before closing the door behind her. Fred goes back to the party.

  
  


* * *

  
  


First year of uni, there's a guy on Sam's floor in res named Tony and Sam _craves_ his attention. He barely even sees him, they're reading different things and only have other res friends in common, but whenever the chance arises, Sam finds an excuse to invite him to parties and pre-drinks and whatever else is happening on the floor.

One evening it's technically a movie night in Sam's apartment, but it's mostly shitty weed and arguing over Die Hard sequels. Sam shoves his way through the group to where Tony is already slouched on the tiny sofa, and squeezes in next to him, stealing his joint for something to do with his hands. Somewhere, someone decides on Die Hard With a Vengance and the lights are turned off. Sam slides down on the sofa until his thigh is pressed against the length of Tony's. 

Before Sam Jackson and Bruce Willis even team up, Tony has shifted on the couch until his face is pressed into the crook of Sam's shoulder, hot, stale breath against his skin.

Sam never knows how the movie ends.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sam’s eyes are back down on his phone by the time Sarah sits on the bed next to him.

“It’s good to see you, kid.”

“Not a kid.”

“Okay.” She settles into the bed so they’re sitting properly beside each other, him with his phone and her with her little gift bag. Sam doesn’t know what to say.

“This place seems nice.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” Sam’s eyes are still on his phone, even though the screen is black. “It’s better than most places I sell. Some of my friends are thinking of moving out, but I don’t see the point really, it’s actually a really good financial -”

“Hey,” Sarah puts a hand on his knee. “It’s fine, no judgements. If you’re happy here, I’m happy.”

“I am.” He said. “Happy. Here, I mean. I’m happy.”

“Yeah.”

Sam looks around the room to see it from her eyes. The walls are buttercup yellow with plenty of smudges around knee-height, and none of the windows open without him having to climb onto a chair to release a latch at the top, and he still hasn’t decorated anything, but it still feels like _home_ more than any shitty legit flat he’s ever had.

Sarah coughs. “So Fred seems nice.”

“He’s a good mate, yeah.”

“Sam.”

“He’s not -”

“He is though, right?”

Sam sighs and presses the palms of his hands into his eyes until he sees colours. “Yeah, he is.”

“I’m happy for you, you know. Mom would be too, we all -”

“Dad wouldn’t have.” Sam wipes his eyes before the tears can escape.

“Probably not, no, not to start.” Sarah sighs and puts an arm around his shoulder, “But he would have, he -”

Sam scoffs. 

“He _would_ have. He’d get there, I know he would. He loved you so much.”

Sam isn’t able to answer because he’s afraid he’ll start crying again.

“Here,” She hands him the bag. “I got you a present.”

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a tree ornament, a small, homemade, double-sided frame. One side has a picture of him and Sarah when they were tiny, and the other has him on his dad’s lap, both of them in matching footie jerseys. He’s crying too much now to pretend he isn’t, and he wraps his arms around Sarah to muffle his sobs in her shoulder. 

She hugs him back, stroking his back gently until he’s quiet.

Finally, he pulls back and wipes the remaining tears away. “Thanks.”

Sarah smiles. “I’m gonna go, okay? Go have fun with your friends.”

Sam nods, and hugs her again. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, okay. You can make it up to us by coming over on Boxing Day, yeah? Bring your boy.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sam lost track, eventually. It's not like it was ever going to mean anything.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Everyone Fred knows at the party (not all that many people to start with) have said hello and wandered off so Fred is left by himself, by the snack table, dodging the occasional glare from Anthony as he eats more than his fair share of mince pies.

The playlist has already run out of songs and is starting to replay some, so it’s the second go-round of _Last Christmas_ when Sam sidles up to Fred and steals the mince pie directly out of his hand.

“I was eating that.”

“And now I’m eating it.”

Fred rolls his eyes and gives Sam a cup of mulled wine. Sam downs it in one and pulls Fred into a loose, awkward hug. Fred pats his back.

“How’s Sarah?”

“She’s… she’s fine. I think. I haven’t really seen her since… Since.”

“Yeah.”

“She thinks I’ve been avoiding her.”

 _She’s right_ thinks Fred, but he’s wisely silent.

“I loved my dad, yeah?”

“I know.”

“I disappointed him though.”

“I’m sure you d -”

“No.” Sam pulled back a little to look at Fred. “I did. A lot.”

“Okay.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to disappoint people by not trying than by trying.”

Fred doesn’t really get it. His family had been built on a kind of benign, expectation-less affection, and he’d never had the chance to disappoint anyone until Will, which didn’t count.

“So I just, y’know… didn’t.”

Sam isn’t tall enough to tuck his chin over Fred’s shoulder, so instead he burrows his face into his neck and Fred tightens his arms around him. He pretends the tight, wet breaths against his skin aren’t even noticeable.

The music switches to _I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus_ and Sam shakes a little with laughter but doesn’t move.

They’re pulled out of it when Kate stands on a table and claps her hands until the music is lowered.

“We’re so happy all of you could make it! And now it’s time to welcome one final, _special_ , guest.”

She gestures at the double-doors at the end of the hall, and Anthony does a small drum-roll on the table as they swing open to reveal Santa.

Or at least, Colin in a mid-range Santa costume. 

Sam turns back to Fred as Colin starts making his way around the crowd with his sack of presents.

“My sister wants you to come over on Boxing Day.”

“That sounds nice.”

“There’ll be booze.”

“Okay.”

“And food, and -”

“Sam, it’s fine. You don’t have to convince me.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” He wraps his arms around Fred and lays his head on his chest, breaking eye-contact. “And we can leave immediately if they’re weird. Or too not-weird. It’ll be fine.”

“It will, yeah.”

He gently winds his fingers into Sam’s hair to pull him up for a kiss, but Colin bumps into them before he can.

Colin brandishes the sack. “Take something for god’s sake. I have to give them all out and take this off before Melody sees me.”

Sam’s eyes widen like he knows exactly what Colin’s worried about and wishes he didn’t, and they both plunge their hands into the sack and grab a small wrapped package.

“Thank you.” Colin looks into the sack to see how many are left and sighs. “Carry on.”

He scurries away, and Sam shakes his gift next to his ear.

“I think it’s condoms.”

“It’s _absolutely_ not condoms.”

Sam shoves the gift into his pocket and puts his arms back around Fred. Fred’s gift isn’t really pocket-able, so he just holds it in one hand and rests his arms on Sam’s waist.

Sam dips his forehead to rest against Fred’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re here. Like, in general. Not just the party. But here too.”

Fred rests his chin on Sam’s head. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

The music fades from _Stop the Cavalry_ to _Let it Snow_ and Sam’s arms tighten around Fred. 

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”


End file.
